Anything more than a witness

Life is unfair; that is true but what can we do about it? Life has always been unfair and will probably be like that for a very long time. Here is the story of a young woman freshly come from far away to the place where she is now. Her name is Esmi, like my niece. She is not named after Esmi. It just turns out that Esmi is a little cute name. Her parents probably liked the name or just wanted to call her Esmee. Anyway, she had a short cute name. And as short as her cute name, is her personal experience; a story of her considering herself as a witness. It’s an interesting short story that could impress the reader.

Submitted: August 01, 2012

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Submitted: August 01, 2012

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I always thought that I was not meant to be anything more but a witness. There was nothing I could do. The idea often bothered me. I felt meaningless and invisible. Who could believe that? A girl
like me could not be invisible and meaningless. I had everything to run the entire world. Not that I was a very smart person or very rich, beautiful, intelligent or anything that provides a person
to be an exception. No, I, Esmi, wasn’t like that. I was nice and kind enough to have some friends. I was scary enough to have just a few friends. I was smart enough to stay out of troubles. I was
dumb enough to have some. I was beautiful enough to be appreciated and bad looking enough to keep handsome guys away. I was talkative like no one could be and crazy like only me could be. For the
rest, let’s just say “no comment”. That was me, Esmi, just a normal girl in a normal world with just one exception: the world was a little bit new for me. I had to switch a lot of things in my
habits. The good thing is that I could adapt myself very easily. So, there I was, in my kind of new world, with new people and new friends. There I was, standing in front of the mirror, looking at
me with that very common impression of déjà-vu. The déjà-vu was the same frequent shot I had for days. There I was, in front of that mirror watching life goes and comes. All I could hear was the
silent complains of the others and all I could feel was their sorrow. Who knows how hurt they were? I do, I witnessed it. We were forming a strange geometrical figure. I was in the center but was
not the center. Around ten to fifteen feet from me was Sacha. We formed a kind of straight line that started from me and goes ahead in front of me, on my right side. Sacha was a good friend of
mine. He was my friend and even more. I was in love with him. I almost turn crazy for him. I have to confess that with me in love, things could get complicated. But as said before, I was the
witness. I even witnessed my love for Sacha as if it was somebody else story. The fact is that I wasn’t the girl Sacha loved. There our figure continues. Very close to Sacha, on the left,
Temperance was standing there, facing him. She was also my friend. Let’s say everybody present in the figure was my friend. Temperance was a very particular friend for me. I had a lot of respect
for her. She was beautiful and smart and very kind. She was also the person with who Sacha was in love. He loved her, and she loved him. The story could end that way. I just had to close my eyes
and to accept their love. Both Sacha and Temperance were my friends. And I couldn’t afford to lose their friendship. So I decided to forget about the love I had for Sacha. Somehow it would die;
love with me always dies. It did in the past; it would do the same for that case too. Once I convinced myself about that I decided to turn my back and leave away. The scene was over. I saw all I
wanted to know; me in love with Sacha who was dating Temperance. Love only goes with two persons. The third one is a mess. So, on my way to leave I did a last glance to Sacha to fill myself with
his beauty. That was the only last thing I could. He was such a handsome boy that I almost fainted with the idea of him in love with another girl. That has always been me; the girl in love but not
loved. I was such a mess. I was a lost cause and my only comfort was his friendship. He could have slept with thousands of girls I would just stay and live all of that. I was nothing more than a
simple person who had the charge to look. My place was not in the middle of Temperance and Sacha’s love. Therefore I allowed myself that last look on my way to leave. And I realized that there were
other people in the geometrical figure.

Around fifteen feet behind Temperance, Sam was standing straight, almost staring. That look explained everything. The distance between Sam and Temp made that Sam was almost on my left now. I had
the opportunity to clearly see his face. It was full of love. Close behind him, on his right, Jenny was looking at the scene, holding Sam’s t-shirt. She looked at me for something like two seconds
and I just could see a depressed face. Such a scene! Sacha and Temp together, loving each other; Sam on the back, loving Temp, Jenny close to Sam, desperately in love with him and trying to keep
him, while he was trying to be with Temp. And among all that I was standing there, watching. What was my place in that figure? I was in the central place but not the center. The center was somebody
else. Or should I say some other people. I wasn’t the center at all. I’m not meant to be the center in any case. I’m meant to be just a witness. I watch. That was all I could do. That is all I’ve
ever been able to do. So there I stood in front of that mirror, with Sacha and Temp on my right, Sam and Jenny on my left. So what was going on now? I knew who was who. I just couldn’t figure out
what they were all doing. Let’s just forget about what Sacha and his girl were doing. The understanding of that whole thing has remained complex for my little brain. Well I was not meant to
understand anything. As said already, I was a watcher. I just watched and did nothing else. But as a human, I needed to understand at least the little things surrounding me. That was all I asked.
So I understood perfectly that the geometrical figure was actually a desperate depressing love vicious circle; we were all trapped inside and there was obviously no way for us to get out. I seemed
to have trouble with that truth. I wanted to leave, to run away and disappear. The thing is that I just couldn’t. We were all trapped in. The weirdest thing was me in the center of the figure. The
most relieved thing was that I wasn’t the center. Being in that position allowed me to analyze perfectly every single thing, details by details.

So here was the whole thing. Sam was crazily in love with Temperance. He was looking for a way to express his feelings. But as it’s well known, it’s not that easy, the love thing. Yes, Love isn’t
that easy. If it were, well, things would be different. Anyway, Sam was in love to death with Temp. The way he would let her know? Well he was still looking for it. I think he did look for it too
long. She started dating another guy. Things became serious between her and the guy and Sam was still looking for a way to let her know about his feelings. I wished I could tell him to drop it. I
wish I could just stand in front of him and say: “Hey buddy! It’s over, you know. The girl isn’t for you anymore. Just forget about her; find another girl, drink, scream or do whatever you want,
but forget about her.” Yet I still didn’t know what I would say if he replied: “And how I am supposed to do that? Do you have any idea of how I am supposed to forget her?” Yeah I admit it would be
a very tough question. Sam had those strong feelings deep inside of him for a very long time. Knowing him as I did, I knew it would not be that easy for him to drop everything. Not when he put her
center of his own existence. Some people might say: “Who would be so crazy to act like that?” Sam was that crazy. He was even more; he was totally in love. I made food for all of us just in purpose
to give her food and not to look as a fool. He invited us to his place even if we had to stay late and he had to study for a serious test he would have the next early morning. He literally killed
himself slowly for her love. The consequences were not noticeable. He remained the “cool friend”. Yet he was happy as if that simple nomination was a price for him. Love makes us such idiots. Sam
was Pathetic and worse when it was all about his love for Temperance. I could ask myself what did she have to turn my friend crazy as he was. The truth is that she was just her. She was just
Temperance; the friend even I loved and was not willing to lose her friendship even for a man I was crazily in love. Maybe I did not love Sacha I pretended to. Temperence was a simple good girl.
The kind of girl mothers would like to have as a daughter; fathers would be in love with; girls wished to have as sister and boys would kill to marry. She was just perfect for those who knew how to
recognize a pearl. I considered myself the black sheep next to her though I’ve always been seen as prettier. So how in the world Sam was supposed to forget her? I’ve been trying to figure out the
answers too without success. I tried to look for the exact response but the truth was that there were no exact answers. I would have passed nights and days in the topic and would remain without any
kind of satisfying answers. Love was a mystery. It is still that mystery by the way. So, unfortunately for my friend Sam, I couldn’t do anything. He was blind, empty and in search for a way to tell
Temperance how much he loved her. As the meaningless thing that I was, I just stood there and watched him fail. I stood there and watch him fail badly in his attempt to conquer her. Never had I see
such a failure. He was trying again and again and each time there was something to stop him. When he finally got the chance to act, she had her face toward Sacha. She was giving her back to Sam.
Poor Sam, even that didn’t stop him, he started to talk and talk and talk in vain. There was nobody listening to him; nobody except me. I just couldn’t understand what he was saying. The words were
flowing unstoppable like water in a torrent. They were sometimes violent, sometimes smooth but all about love. I couldn’t say if he was singing, screaming, crying or just talking. His face
expressed at the same time his love, his anxiety, his worries, sorrow and pain. He made promises and wishes. He just had his mouth opened but none of his sayings was clear for me to understand,
they were just noise. And among that, Temperance had her back turned to him, completely focused on Sacha; and Jenny was desperately holding him to keep him for her. Nobody was paying attention to
what he was saying. I tried hard to focus on him but at the end I dropped. I couldn’t help him, so there was nothing I would gain listening to him. It was such a pity. Poor Sam! I could imagine how
he felt at that précised moment. He was abandoned. That feeling is a tough one and Sam wasn’t prepared for that. He had always been the center of all attentions. He was a very handsome boy, almost
as handsome as Sacha if it wasn’t more. He had his skin and cute accent from south Europeans. Furthermore, he had that typical Italian nature, the one that drove women all around the world crazy.
He had all of those criteria but it wasn’t enough to give him the only thing he had ever desired to love: Temperance. I’m pretty sure that remark gave him the effect of digging his own tomb. He
would have gone in there if death wouldn’t have deleted the picture of Temperance in his brain. It was his drug. He would comfort himself with her image. At least he had somebody else who loved
him. He just had to turn his face and meet her. It was pretty much easy for him. He wasn’t unloved at all. It was the reverse. Sometimes, the person you love is not the one who loves you. That was
the whole truth about our figure. The person Sam loved wasn’t the one who loved him. Yet she was so close to him. He just had to turn his face to meet her.